


Up The Walls And Down Again

by Merixcil



Category: ADV, iKON (Kpop)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanbin and Woosung don't like each other, but they can work around that</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up The Walls And Down Again

Hanbin decides he doesn’t like Woosung from the get go.

It’s not exactly a first meeting, because Woosung has no active role in proceedings, but it’s definitely a first encounter. Hanbin and Jiwon are stuck in a queue, waiting to audition and watching the other contestants like hawks. There are all sorts here; high schoolers mumbling preprepared lyrics into their sleeves, wide eyed office workers hoping for a shot at something more exciting; rising stars who they know by name but not on sight.

Scattered amongst the amateurs, more experienced musicians move like sharks pre-emptively laughing at their hapless prey. Giriboy, Jolly V, C Jamm…

“Vasco,” Jiwon breathes as a wiry figure skulks past, face hidden by a snapback. For all Hanbin knows it could be anyone, but he trusts Jiwon to know what he’s talking about.

Olltii passes them not five minutes later, his cocky nonchalance and blinding arrogance standing in stark contrast to Vasco’s hurried arrival. He swaggers past, shoulders open and head up straight like he expects someone to challenge him then and there.

They’d be mad to. Hanbin’s done enough research to know that Olltii is formidable in his own right and there are few, if any Korean MCs who can top him in freestyle. It’s all they can do to bear his heavy stare and try not to feel like they’re stepping way out of their depth.

Olltii moves on and Jiwon shudders, “he’s a right piece of work. Wouldn’t want him as an opponent,”

“Me neither, but if we wanna win at least one of us is gonna have to take him down,”

“Rather you than me,” Jiwon laughs derisively, ushering Hanbin forward with the rest of the line.

 

“I told you, I’m not allowed to leave the building, my manager would kill me,”

Olltii makes a face, “jesus how old are you? Your manager’s not you’re fucking mum,”

“Yeah, well I’m still not going,” Hanbin does his best to keep his expression neutral. He’s been told the effect can be pretty scary but upon reviewing the Show Me The Money recordings he thinks he just looks terrified.

“Don’t be a brat! C’mon, I can’t work in here I wanna get out,”

“Not my problem,”

“You what?”

“If you can’t work in here that’s not my problem, or anyone else’s in fact. We’re supposed to work in here, that’s how they know we’re not cheating,” Hanbin forces his most simpering smile and hopes that it looks fake as hell, “you’re not cheating, are you _Olltii-sshi_?”

“Nah I don’t need anyone to write my shit for me,” Olltii shrugs and drops back onto the bench that him and Hanbin are forced to share as they work on their joint performance. For someone so adamant that his way is the only way he seems awfully sanguine in the face of defiance.

Hanbin’s eyes narrow, “what are you playing at?”

“Nothing. I just know I can beat you even if I write a shitty verse,” Olltii shrugs, “I mean you freestyle pretty good for an idol, I’ll give you that. But I’m still way out of your league,”

“What makes you think you can win with a better verse?”

Olltii frowns like the question is preposterous, “because this is a fucking rap competition, dipshit. The best rap wins. God you’re thick,”

Hanbin laughs to himself and shakes his head, “whatever you say Olltii-sshi. Whatever you say.”

 

Hanbin wasn’t really expecting to win, but he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he only made it this far. He follows Olltii out of the judges’ chamber hoping that Jiwon isn’t waiting outsider ready to smother him with condolences.

Olltii turns to look at him, eyes wide and blinking and his cheeks puffed out like a hamster. If Hanbin didn’t know any better, he’d say he looks relieved.

“Good luck then,” Hanbin holds out a hand in the vain hope that Olltii’s insatiable need to declare his superiority can recede far enough for them to part on good terms.

Olltii scoffs at him, “yeah, you’ll need it," No way.

Jiwon erupts out of nowhere full of unnecessary sympathy and prolonged skinship. Hanbin appreciates the effort though he doesn’t think he needs comforting. It doesn’t come as a surprise when he’s called back in for a second chance; hearing Olltii talk about him like he was an actual challenge when the show airs is a little more unexpected.

 

“What the fuck was that?” Olltii cackles as Hanbin steps through into the backstage area.

Hanbin raises his eyebrows and says nothing. The tension in the room is palpable, all eyes trained on the pair of them waiting to see how he will react. He’s used to dealing with disputes between trainees, but in those cases the fights are won before they’ve started as the pecking order is so perfectly established, but here he has to find his own ranking – his response here could determine his standing for the rest of the career.

It would be so easy to run over to Jiwon on the other side of the room, there’s a spare seat next to him practically begging Hanbin to choose cowardice but that’s exactly what he doesn’t want right now. He’s just fucked up one of his few chances to leave a good impression on the other contestants before the real competition starts, playing it safe now isn’t an option.

Hanbin drops into the only other free seat left in the room, which is of course right next to Olltii.

“Aww, do you want me to kiss those hurty feelings better?”

“I didn’t do _that_ badly,”

“You forgot your fucking lyrics how much worse could you have done?”

“I could have dissed idols on national TV,” Hanbin stares Olltii down, “at least I have something more than a gimmick going for me,”

“A gimmick?” Olltii shakes his head in disbelief, “you don’t half talk big for a snotty little daddy’s boy,”

“You don’t half talk big for a no name rapper,”

Olltii casts Hanbin a long sideways glance, “if you think I’m a nobody then you really haven’t done your homework properly. I’m the only unsigned artist in this room who’s name the judges knew before I told them, and if this competition was just a shade less staged I’d be in with a serious chance of winning,”

“So you know it’s all scripted?” Hanbin frowns, “doesn’t that go against your ‘real rappers’ code’ or something?”

“Oh absolutely! But I’m not gonna turn down all this free publicity. Besides,” Olltii pulls out his phone and before Hanbin can blink he’s snapped a selca of the two of them that to the uneducated viewer would make it look like they were friends,

“I managed to get myself a fair few lines.”

 

YG trainees have very little to do with the main company building. Hanbin supposes that he’s been luckier than most in that respect, it’s not a second home to him but he can at least find his way from the second floor studios to the rooftop, there’s few trainees that can say that.

It’s raining, heady summer rain that cuts through the bitter heat but only amplifies the humidity. Hanbin stares out from under the awnings towards the river, remembering the flash floods that put half the Gangnam subway stations out of service the previous summer and wondering if this rain is strong enough to worry people that it might happen again.

The door swings open and Olltii stumbles out onto the patio, trademark smirk firmly in place.  
Hanbin purses his lips, “I’m busy,”

“It can wait, I have news” Olltii sounds out of breath – Hanbin can’t believe he’s fool enough to use the stairs.

He stomps over and plants himself far too close to Hanbin for comfort. He leans forward conspiratorially and his hair bounces erratically in the faint wind,

“Ok so-“

“This had better be important,”

“It is! Shut up you’ll like this,”

“Don’t tell me what to do,”

“I’ll tell you to do whatever the fuck I want, so shut up,”

Against his better judgement, Hanbin does as he’s told and Olltii proceeds to reveal his discovery with glee,

“So you know that I’ve been trying to work out who benefits from what the way the show is going?”

“You talk about little else,” Hanbin rubs his eyes over enthusiastically and hopes that by the time he stops Olltii will have vanished,

“Ok, but I found some interesting dirt on Iron. He was supposed to debut in that group Bangtan Sonyeondan back in 2010 but he got scrapped, fell off the radar for ages then he shows up in a Ladies’ Code special teaser last year,”

“So?”

Olltii shakes his head, “honestly! Don’t you have to know all this pointless shit to be an idol? Ladies’ Code are on a label called Polaris.”

Hanbin stares ahead blankly. This information means nothing to him.

“ _Polaris_ ,” Olltii groans, “it’s YDG’s label. Iron is a trainee at Polaris,”

“But that would mean…” Hanbin’s eyes go wide, “oh my god,”

“Yeah, you’re not the only pretty puppet in this contest after all,”

“No! I mean yes but,” Hanbin takes a deep breath, “Olltii, Bobby’s going to win,”

“What?” for the first time since he’s known him, Hanbin sees something that looks like worry cross Olltii’s face

“Swings has picked his team from Just Music, YDG’s front runner is on Polaris, 1llionaire don’t have anyone in the competition so they get to coach the winner who is on YG. It’s the only way everyone’s backs get scratched,”

Olltii sits back heavily, “fuck,”

The pounding of the rain on the rooftop flagstones fills the silence between them. Olltii seems to have shrunk into himself, knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes pointing skyward at the tumultuous clouds. He looks small, he looks unsure; he’s so overconfident and so very tall that Hanbin often forgets they’re the same age, that they are climbing their mountains at the same pace.

“What’s your name?” Hanbin asks as soon as the thought occurs to him that he’s never asked before. It seems so strange that they could have come so far without ever having broached the subject, so strange that he didn’t ask on the first day.

Olltii blinks, surprised, “Jung Woosung,”

“Woosung…”

“That’s weird,”

“What is?”

“You using my name,” Olltii makes a face, “why would you bother? I never use yours.”

“No you just sort of….insult me,”

Olltii hums in agreement, grin creeping back into the corners of his mouth, “that’s cos you’re a stubborn little pampered princess,”

“I don’t really see how stubborn is an insult,” Hanbin pauses, “and if you had to live as a trainee no way you’d say we’re pampered,”

“Is that so _Hanbin_?”

“It sure is _Woosung hyeong_ ,”

“We’re the same age!” Olltii protests loudly

Hanbin shrugs, “I know. But this way I can remind us both that you’re ten months closer to the grave than me,”

So Woosung it becomes.

 

“Teach me a dance then,” Woosung bounces on the balls of his feet, admiring his reflection in the mirrors of the dance studio. Hanbin follows him to the centre of the room, half his attention on the door, terrified that it might open and someone discover that they’re down here.

Woosung seems to read his mind, “if anyone comes in just tell ‘em you were looking for me, they can’t fire you for keeping an eye on outsiders”

“Since when did you care about my contract?”

“Since you decided to be a pain in the ass who doesn’t do shit without papa YG’s say so, so come on,” Woosung executes a painfully flawed pirouette, “teach me something,”

For a moment Hanbin considers telling him to go fuck himself and returning to the stack of lyrics upstairs that desperately require his attention. But he supposes that Woosung will do what Woosung wants regardless and if he’s here to keep an eye on him he can at least act as damage control.

He kicks off his shoes and throws aside his hoodie, “what do you want to learn?”

“I dunno,” Woosung shrugs and shakes his limbs out like a rag doll, “what’s pitifully easy, undeniably cool, and nothing at all like Gangnam Style?”

“Fantastic Baby?”

“Or Fantastic Baby,”

Hanbin blinks, he’s not sure what else he knows that could be classed as simple, “err…I could try and teach you Ringa Linga, but I’m warning you, you’re gonna suck at it,”

“Oh please it can’t be that hard if you can manage it,” Woosung speaks without the faintest hint of irony, Hanbin can’t remember if he was this cocksure when they first met.

“Socks off or you’ll slip,” Hanbin says, reaching down to do the same, “have you warmed up?”

“Not in the slightest,”

Hanbin smirks at himself in the mirror, “you’re gonna be stiff tomorrow,”

 

Hanbin has barely stepped offstage before Woosung’s fingers close around his wrist. He’s lead through the maze of corridors that make up a worryingly huge proportion of the broadcast station, hurriedly bowing to the various well-wishers they pass along the way.

He’s not particularly worried, Woosung is forceful and they’re on the same team; it’s not so far outside the realm of probability that he would meet Hanbin off the stage just to make absolutely sure that he arrived back in their dressing room in time. The competition is heating up and for all Hanbin knows his rehearsal was dire.

They turn right, left, left again. Hanbin soon realises that wherever he’s being lead it’s not to the YG dressing room, in fact this isn’t a side of the building that he’s familiar with at all.

“Woosung…” Hanbin’s voice is wary as Woosung drags him into a bathroom and hurriedly checks the stalls for occupants. Once satisfied that they are completely alone he throws Hanbin into the cubicle at the far end, follows him in afterwards, and locks the door.

“What the f-“ Woosung’s hand is over Hanbin’s mouth, effectively silencing him before he can get the words out. Hanbin stands tense under the other boy’s grip, wondering what he could possibly have to say that needs to be said in an empty bathroom and reminding himself that he could easily shake him off if needs be.

Woosung is built like a twig, if his words didn’t pack a punch there’d be nothing intimidating about him at all.

There’s one hand over his mouth and another gripping his waist tightly, Woosung leans forward and speaks directly into his ear, “we’re out of the way here, but that doesn’t mean we’re alone. The quieter you can be, the less likely it is that someone’s gonna come looking for us, ok?”

Despite himself, Hanbin knods.

Woosung continues, “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna have ten seconds to decide what you wanna do. If you walk out of here, that’s fine, I’ll let you go. But if you’re still in this stall when ten seconds are up, I’m gonna suck your dick,”

It takes Hanbin’s brain a moment to catch up with his ears. The hands at his mouth and hip leave and then he’s standing there, staring at Woosung - desperate to call bullshit, and determined to call his bluff. He doesn’t know what the game is here, but there’s no conceivable reason for him to be taken aside, and now of all times, for a bathroom blowjob.

There’s no way Woosung’s gonna suck his dick. Hanbin counts the seconds cautiously, suspicious of what the consequences of his staying might be.

“Ten seconds,” Woosung breathes. Hanbin tenses, and watches him drop to his knees.

“What are you doing?” Hanbin hisses as Woosung hooks the fingers of one hand over the waistband of his jeans and uses the other to undo his fly.

“I told you,” Woosung says, tugging Hanbin forward hard enough to lift him off the wall so he can pull his trousers down along with his underwear, “I’m gonna suck your dick,”

Woosung’s gonna suck his dick. Right.

Hanbin looks down at sed dick and thinks that it doesn’t look like a particularly nice thing to suck; it hangs flaccid between his legs, too surprised to find there was no bluff to call to be turned on.

That changes very quickly when Woosung takes him into his mouth. The wet heat, the pressure as he pulls back, sucking hard at the tip of Hanbin’s dick – it doesn’t matter that he’s a guy and that Hanbin doesn’t really like him, his body’s reaction is immediate and it takes less than a minute of Woosung’s rough, no nonsense ministrations to bring him to full hardness.

It rather helps that Woosung’s kneeling on the floor, brow furrowed in concentration, with Hanbin’s dick in his mouth. There’s a kick to be gotten out of that.

Woosung is evidently no stranger to fellatio, he performs the act like he’s following a well learned routine, hands moving seamlessly between pumping Hanbin’s shaft and fondling his balls as he takes him down in long, languid strokes.

It’s good, it’s fantastic, Hanbin has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep quiet.

Woosung pauses for a moment, the tip of Hanbin’s dick lying against the back of his tongue and his eyes wide and peering upwards. It’s the same stance adopted by so many girls in internet porn as they survey the reactions of the man they’re sucking off to make sure that they’re giving their partner as much pleasure as possible, though it seems unlikely that Woosung’s thought process is based on anything so subservient.

“Fuck,” Hanbin chokes out as Woosung reaches behind his balls and presses down hard on his perineum, sending sparks rushing out across his body from his prostate. His dick twitches and his hips cant forwards passing a point not meant to be passed and causing Woosung to gag.

They freeze for a moment, each trying to find their breath. Woosung carefully readjusts himself around Hanbin, drawing back to a safe distance and breathing deep through his nose but Hanbin himself has other ideas.

Terrible, wonderful, awful ideas. Ideas born of the undeniable truth that however preposterous the situation may be, Woosung gagging on his dick was hot. Woosung on his knees and Hanbin in control is a possibility more titillating still; and Woosung regaining full control of their dynamic is something that he cannot allow to happen.

Slowly, deliberately, giving him enough time to say no but doubting that he will, Hanbin slides his hand into Woosung’s hair and twists his fingers into it. Woosung meets his gaze, takes a long, shuddering breath, and then nods almost imperceptibly.

It’s all the invitation Hanbin needs. Holding his head steady he thrusts into Woosung’s open mouth, mystified at the sick pleasure that washes over him when once again, it results in gagging. And again on the second, third, fourth stroke…

On the fifth stroke Woosung changes the angle of his head and his throat drops low. Hanbin feels himself pass the gag point, and with a pop his dick slides down Woosung’s throat.

Hanbin gasps, his fingers twisting hard in Woosung’s hair. No one’s taken him down that deep before and he’s not used to the sensation of his entire dick being enveloped by someone’s mouth, not used to the feel of lips wrapped around the base of his cock. He feels muscles flexing around him as Woosung swallows and chokes out a groan.

He’s preparing to move again when Woosung forcefully jerks back, breathing heavy and looking somewhat annoyed, “you…you have to move…” he pants, “I have to breathe out when I swallow….and once you’re down there I can’t br…I can’t breathe till you come back up, ok?”

Hanbin nods and opens his mouth to apologise but all that comes out is a long, low whine as Woosung slides his lips down his dick once again. It’s unbelievably tight and the knowledge that he is being swallowed whole is unfathomably arousing – he supposes it’s something of a power trip, knowing that you can fuck someone’s mouth.

Especially someone as domineering as Woosung.

Placing one hand on either side of Woosung’s head to hold him steady, Hanbin pulls out carefully, wondering how far he needs to go to allow space to breathe. He slides himself along Woosung’s tongue until the head of his dick meets the tip before thrusting forward once again.

This time he goes down easy. They know what to expect from each other and when Hanbin slides out, Woosung mutters, “faster,” around him.

Hanbin doesn’t need to be told twice, he fucks Woosung’s face like they’re running out of time (which, if Hanbin’s internal clock were not somewhat distracted, he would realise they probably are), fingers twisted tight enough in his hair to be in danger of pulling clumps of it out. His control of his vocal cords breaks down almost immediately and despite his attempts to bite his tongue he winds up moaning breathlessly in time with his thrusts.

Woosung is as passive as Hanbin’s ever seen him, kneeling demurely on the floor with one hand on his knee to steady himself, mouth hanging open as he repeatedly swallows Hanbin’s dick. He looks oddly tranquil, he doesn’t even wince; it's hard to believe that someone like him would look so happy eating cock.

Hips snapping forward for the final time, Hanbin comes down Woosung’s throat with a dangerously loud cry. He shudders through the aftershocks until his dick becomes too sensitive for the convulsions of Woosung’s throat muscles as they swallow around him.

Hanbin extracts his fingers from Woosung’s hair and watched the older boy fall backwards, out of breath and chin streaked with saliva. His hair is wild and his lips are flushed a pretty pink, he looks up at Hanbin with dark eyes.

Even through his jeans it’s easy to see that Woosung’s hard, Hanbin wonders if he’s expected to do something about it.

“Olltii to the stage. I repeat, can Olltii please come to the stage for rehearsal?” a voice crackles over the intercom. Woosung closes his eyes and draws a deep breath before grabbing some toilet paper to clean himself up with, flattening his hair and standing up to leave.

Hanbin puts his arm out to stop him, “wait…” but much as he is sure that they aren’t finished he has no idea what he expects Woosung to wait for.

For a painful few seconds, they stare each other down, then Woosung leaves. Hanbin hears the bathroom door swing shut behind him and then drops to the floor, trousers still halfway down his thighs.

 

The next time Hanbin steps offstage Woosung isn’t there to meet him. He walks back to the dressing room alone, confident that he’s just given his best performance of the competition so far. It’s hard to suppress his smile till he makes it back to the safety of his team mates but he’s sure his momentary surge in self-confidence shows in his posture.

He opens the door to the dressing room and is set upon by Tablo, yelping congratulations into his ear. Jinwon is more reserved but still beams at him and Woosung surpasses all expectations by throwing his arms around him in a full-scale hug.

Hanbin’s not fooled; Woosung has become increasingly more prone to touching him, but only when the cameras are on. He gets it, a PD probably took him aside and explained that the image of a good team would be better served by him appearing to be nice to Hanbin from time to time than only speaking to him when he has something nasty to say. Still, he can’t pretend that Show Me The Money would be as much of a headache if Woosung made half the effort he makes to appear friendly to the viewership once the cameras are turned off.

Really, Hanbin’s looking for some kind of indication that the horrifically realistic memory he has of Woosung sucking him off in a studio bathroom is not his imagination playing tricks on him. Neither of them has mentioned it since, Hanbin tries to be understanding but he would have thought that such a thing should elicit a change in attitude between them, even if it only made them all the more keen to never have anything to do with each other ever again. On the one hand, it’s a relief that he’s not expected to completely rehash an acquaintanceship that he still has to maintain for several weeks, on the other hand he’s starting to wonder if he didn’t make it all up.

The image of his dick vanishing down Woosung’s throat flashes across Hanbin’s mind. He shakes himself – now is not the time.

“When are you up?” Hanbin asks, collapsing onto the couch,

“Supposed to be in half an hour, which means I probably have about two hours to wait,” Woosung sighs and rearranges his snapback over his hair, “don’t you have idol shit to do?”

“Probably,”

“Off you go then, no need to waste your day in this dump,”

Hanbin leans forward to get a better look at the TV as Iron takes to the stage, “nah, I’ll wait,”

It takes forty five minutes for a PD to call for Woosung, and Hanbin thinks that his performance is entirely worth waiting for.

 

“You were right,” Woosung laughs wryly, catching Hanbin in the hallway on his way out of the broadcasting station for the final time. Behind them, workmen wrestle with the last pieces of the stage and out of the corner of his eye Hanbin sees Swings laughing at something Giriboy said as they leave together.

Hanbin blinks, “right about what?”

“ _Bobby_ ,” Woosung frowns like it’s obvious, “you said he was gonna win,”

“Oh…yeah…sorry,”

“Sorry for what?”

“You should have…I dunno,” Hanbin purses his lips and tries to look anywhere other than at Woosung, “I have no idea how to compliment you,”

For a moment Woosung stares at him like he’s gone mad, then he tips back his head and laughs, full bodied and genuine and loud enough to make Hanbin jump,

“I don’t need you to compliment me, I have plenty of people telling me I got screwed over,” Woosung prods Hanbin in the side causing him to yelp, “be nice to your friend, don’t go round telling other people they deserved it more,”

“I wasn’t gonna say you deserved it more,” Hanbin grumbles, “Jiwon worked his ass off he totally deserved it, it’s not his fault if the production team planned it out this way,”

“Is hard work enough?”

Hanbin wants to tell him that of course it is, but his manager shows up with Jiwon in tow at precisely the wrong moment and he knows that if he wants anything like a good night’s sleep before practice in the morning he needs to leave now.

“Bye then,” Hanbin feels like he should have something more profound to say to Woosung at this point. They’ve been on a team together, they’ve been put together at every available opportunity since the start of the show, he’s still not entirely sure that Woosung sucking his dick was a dream…

Honestly, Hanbin’s never met someone he didn’t like who he liked so much. But beyond tonight he can’t imagine that they’ll ever meet again.

Woosung waves him out of the building and Hanbin climbs into the back of the van with Jiwon and Jinhwan, who came to watch the final battle in a show of support. Everyone is lively, happy, full of congratulations and high spirits – Hanbin wonders if this is a recent development for Jiwon or if life under Team 1llionaire was more hopeful than under Team YG.

In his heart of hearts, Hanbin wants to ask Jiwon if he knew he was going to win, but knows there’s no way such a question would do anything but break the mood.

“Are we ready to go?” their manager shouts back from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, I think so. WAIT!” Hanbin half shrieks the last word. Though the tinted glass makes it hard to see, he can just about make out Woosung’s silhouette beyond the window. The car starts then jerks to a half immediately, much to everyone’s displeasure.

Hanbin rolls down the window and pokes his head out, “make it quick,”

“Gimme your phone,”

“I can’t,” Hanbin holds up a hand to shush Woosung before he can say anything, “there are important contacts on there I literally cannot let you touch my phone,”

“Fine,” Woosung sticks his hand into the pocket of his jeans and brings out his own phone, “gimme your number then,”

Hanbin takes the phone (nigh on stoneage by his reckoning) and punches his number in as fast as he can before handing it back, “if you call me when I’m sleeping I swear to god I will personally come down to Hongdae and beat your ass,” he mutters.

Woosung beams, “great! I’ll have to test that out sometime,”

Hanbin collapses back into his seat as the van pulls away, Jinhwan still enthusiastically recounting acts of Jiwon’s brilliance,

“What was that about?” Jiwon cuts across Jinhwan before he can lay too much hyperbole on his praise

Hanbin shakes his head dismissively, “just Woosung wanting my number,”

“Which one’s Woosung?” Jinhwan turns to Jiwon expectantly and gets no answer,

Jiwon points at Hanbin, “better ask him,”

“Woosung is Olltii,”

“Ooh I see,” Jinhwan nods, “wait I thought he was an arsehole,”

“He _is_ an arsehole,” Jiwon confirms, “unless Hanbin knows something I don’t?”

“Nope, he’s an arsehole. But he’s kinda…” Hanbin has no idea what Woosung is. He’s pretty sure they're not friends, but they’re definitely not openly hostile – maybe he has a begrudging respect for the boy that makes him put up with more shit from him than he’d willingly take from anyone else.

Or maybe Woosung’s the first person outside the trainee/idol system that Hanbin’s had a proper conversation with in a very long time. Maybe they don’t need to be friends, but sooner or later he’s going to need someone to keep him grounded.

The others decide that Hanbin’s trailing off is their cue to start talking about all the things Jiwon can do with his prize money and all the publicity this is going to grant the six of them. It’s good to hear them so positive about their future, the past year has been miserable one way or another, and as they prepare to launch themselves into another survival show Hanbin worries that things will only get worse.

Junhoe always says that he worries too much, “so Jiwon, what are you going to do for your dear leader now that you’re a wealthy man?”

 

“Hello who is this?” Hanbin mumbles into his phone. He had been taking an overlong nap on the practice room floor when his ring tone had dragged him kicking and screaming back into the waking world. It’s two o’clock in the morning on a Thursday and he is supposed to be schedule free for the next two weeks – he can’t imagine that anyone calling him now would have anything good to say,

“Jeez you sound so formal. Who were you expecting, President Park?”

It takes Hanbin an awfully long time to pin down why the voice is so familiar. He stares blearily up at the ceiling waiting for the lighting rig to come into focus as he runs through a mental checklist of everyone if could possibly be.

The realisation hits him like a freight train, “Woosung,” Hanbin hisses, scrambling to his feet and hunting around for his hoodie, “send me your address, fucker”

“Woooooowww…slow down there you sound a little tense,”

“I’ll say. You woke me up,”

Woosung snickers down the line, “I figured,”

“Yeah? Well do you remember what I said would happen if you ever woke me up?”

“Something about eating my ass?”

Hanbin growls in frustration as he pulls his hoody over his head and slams the practice room door behind him, “send me your address and you’ll find out in half an hour tops,”

The line goes dead and Hanbin’s phone vibrates to let him know he’s received a text; he opens it up and finds an address pointing to somewhere just outside of Sinchon. He takes the lift to ground level and heads out into the relentless early autumn rain. Grumbling, he pulls his hood up and wonders if he’d have the energy for this if he wasn’t now allowed to train in the main YG building.

 

It takes three tries for Woosung to respond to the buzzer. Hanbin is just about to write the trip off as a waste of time when the door to the building flies open,

“You came,” Woosung sounds surprised. He’s wearing a tshirt several sizes too big for him and a pair of boxers that look like they’ve seen better days,

Hanbin rolls his eyes and pushes past him, “third floor, right?”

“Yhup, I’m gonna need to go first though, I have the key,”

Hanbin stands aside and lets Woosung go ahead before following him obediently up three flights of stairs. The further they go the more aware he becomes of his tracksuit, sopping wet from the rain, sticking to his skin and leaving puddles of water on the floor.

“Here we are,” Woosung pushes open the door to his apartment to reveal a sparsely furnished cupboard. Half of the space is taken up by a kitchenette and the other half doesn’t have much going for it beyond a rather shabby looking mattress with a duvet and pillow haphazardly thrown across it.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Hanbin quips sarcastically. He steps over the threshold and kicks off his shoes by the door. No sooner than it’s closed behind them he pulls his hoodie and tshirt off as one and dumps them on the floor, “don’t suppose you’ve got anywhere to dry these?”

Woosung’s eyebrows fly to his hairline and his eyes run their way up and down Hanbin’s torso, “I have one of those shitty little clothes stand things,"

“It’ll have to do,”

Pulling off his tracksuit bottoms as he goes, Hanbin follows Woosung into a rather cramped bathroom where there is indeed a clothes horse occupying most of the available space. He passes his things over, wincing at the soft sound of water dripping off them and onto the floor – there’s no way they’re going to be dry by morning.

“Jeez get naked why don’t you?” Woosung mutters as he takes the trousers. Hanbin knows he’s being snide for the sake of it, but he still hands his boxers over almost immediately.

Woosung pauses, “what’s going on here?”

“I told you,” Hanbin leans back against the door frame, “I’m gonna beat your ass,”

“I could have sworn you said ‘eat’”

“Well I could do that too,”

Woosung’s grin freezes in place and he turns to stare at Hanbin with an expression that suggests he’s torn between wanting to run for the hills and laugh out loud. Hanbin reaches out to grab him by the hem of his shirt.

“What do you say?” he murmurs, “a little naked wrestling sound good to you?”

“Whoever said I wanted to fuck you?” Woosung smirks, but he lets Hanbin pull his shirt up and over his head. He’s a little soft, lanky but with a bit of a belly poking out over the top of his boxers.

Hanbin starts for a moment, he’d almost forgotten that most of the population does not have a personal trainer keeping their body in peak physical condition whether they like it or not.

Woosung notices him looking, “what? Not up to your standards?”

“I don’t have standards,” Hanbin says too quickly and gets Woosung laughing in his face as a punishment,

“You should get some,” he titters, “I mean you could definitely afford to have some. You’re…fuck,” Woosung runs his fingers over Hanbin’s abs, “you’re _really_ hot,”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Hanbin mutters, but he’s blushing,

“Not really, I’m just batting way out of my league this time,”

Woosung’s fingers wander ever lower in their exploration of Hanbin’s body and his other hand comes up to squeeze appreciatively at his bicep. He thinks that after however long spent dancing around the issue, it’s time they got down to business.

“You know,” Hanbin breathes as he pushes Woosung’s boxers off his hips, “the only time I’ve ever done anything with a guy was that time you sucked me off,”

“In the bathroom during recording?” Woosung grins, “good times,”

“I never paid you back for that,”

“Consider it a freebie,”

“A free trial on going homo?”

Woosung cackles, “something like that,”

Hanbin is guided to the worn out mattress and the pair of them fall ontop of the duvet in a mess of limbs. Woosung’s hand fists in his hair and he pulls Hanbin’s neck back far enough to bite down on the skin over his pulsepoint.

Hanbin groans loudly and can feel Woosung grinning against him in response.

“So are there any more freebies or do I have to give as good as I get from here on out?” Hanbin asks as Woosung begins to kiss a messy trail down his body, nipping at any sensitive spots he might find as he goes.

Woosung winks up at him, “don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he sinks his teeth into Hanbin’s hipbone and practically purrs when Hanbin’s hips buck forward in response, “it’s honestly not that hard,”

“Can’t be if you’re any good at it,”

Hanbin raises himself up on his elbows to get a good look at Woosung as he runs one hand from Hanbin’s knee to his crotch.

Their eyes meet and Woosung smirks his best smirk, “you’re gonna be so stiff tomorrow.”

 

Jiwon stumbles through the door at seven thirty in the morning. He’s spent the entirety of the last night and most of the previous day trying desperately to perfect a routine that doesn’t seem to want to perfect itself. He’d blame their lack of synchronicity on Chanwoo but the kid's not doing anything especially awful, the group just seems a little out of wack.

He kicks off his shoes and fights the urge to curl up and sleep right there in the hallway. The others are still over at the training centre, probably napping in shifts by this point, but Jiwon’s been desperately busy recently and Hanbin has granted him a few more sleeping privileges than normal.

Hanbin of course gets full sleeping privileges, and as he already seems to have the dance down perfectly he’s been tucked up safe at home all night. Lucky bastard. He’ll be going in to check on the others in about an hour or so no doubt, and if they’re very lucky he won’t decide to be a dick about their lack of progress.

Not that it matters to Jiwon, he fully intends to be asleep by then.

He’s halfway through the living room before he realises that something is out of place. He backs up slightly and blinks sleepily at the figure eating breakfast on the couch, they’re definitely not one of his band mates but they’re also not entirely unfamiliar,

“Hey Barbie!” Olltii chirrups, grinning over a bowl of a cereal that Jiwon’s pretty sure Hwangsabu doesn’t allow them to have in the house,

“Hey…pigeon…”

A very large part of Jiwon wants to ignore the fact that someone he doesn’t know very well or like very much is sitting in his living room at seven thirty in the morning on a week day, but rather begrudgingly his need to show some kind of responsibility takes over,

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m just having breakfast with Hanbin,” Olltii jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen and sure enough, Hanbin is meticulously weighing out portions of fruit in accordance with his rigid diet plan. He looks up when he hears his name and if Jiwon didn’t know any better he’d swear he sees his eyes widen in panic.

“H-hey Jiwon,” he smiles weakly,

Jiwon frowns, “I thought you didn’t like him?”

Olltii seems entirely unoffended by the accusation, he only beams wider as he informs Jiwon that, “he doesn’t,”

“I don’t,” Hanbin snaps quickly, walking over and sitting on the other end of the couch from Olltii, as far away from each other as they can possibly be.

Jiwon looks between the two of them, entirely baffled, “I don’t get it if you don’t like each other why is he here?”

Neither of them says a thing, Olltii continues to smile happily into whatever sugary mess of carbs lies in his bowl and Hanbin picks through his grapes looking miserable.

Jiwon shakes his head at the pair of them and leaves for his bedroom before things can get any weirder. He doesn’t have time for cryptic early morning meetings right now, all he wants to do is sleep.

He’s tucked up in bed, alarm set for five hours’ time and beyond ready to fall unconscious when he puts two and two together. He can’t believe he didn’t work it out off the bat, surely even for the sleep deprived it’s obvious that there’s only one reason Hanbin would be having an early morning breakfast with anyone outside of the group.

Giggling into his pillow, Jiwon snatches up his phone: _he must be a really good lay_

He hits ‘send’ on the text and is entirely unsurprised when Hanbin storms into the room ten seconds later and throws a slipper at his head.

From the sounds of the laughter coming from the other room, Olltii finds it just as funny as he does.

**Author's Note:**

> \- I know that I should have written this fic months ago if I wanted it to be at all relevant otl  
> \- Hanbin's infamous stage where he fucked up and forgot everything is a lie! He did forget some lyrics but he pulled himself together pretty quickly, you can blame Mnet's editing department for the way the show plays it off. You can hear the uncut performance [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMSyuTQkqOs)  
> \- The information about Iron is completely true. I know that in the past couple of weeks Polaris have made a statement about him signing with them but he's been known to be associated with the label since [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1CipUesVUs) was released  
> \- The romanisation 'Woosung' is kinda lame but it looks more natural than 'Useong' so...  
> \- Jinwon is Masta Wu  
> \- From the looks of instapics and the like Olltii spends a lot of time at his family home. I don't know if he still lives there full time but for the sake of this fic lets say he doesn't  
> -I have Experienced Olltii first hand and he is honest to god the single most arrogant human being I have ever encountered - this fic does not do him justice


End file.
